The Sky Under the Sea
by Noxxus
Summary: "But if I have Haru and you have me, do we really need wives? We can just take care of each other," At the end he blushed a bit, confusing Haru even more. But Mako seemed to like the idea so Haru nodded. As long as Mako continued to smile, Haru could be happy. "Okay."


**Disclaimer **I do not own Free!.

**Warnings **Angst, suicidal thoughts.

***12 weeks AD***

* * *

Tiny drops of pain fell from the sky. They held worlds in their glistening tears, exploding on contact with the pavement. Haru didn't know why the sky was crying, but he too felt like crying. This was the one day of the month that he allowed these feelings, the one day he broke down. Yes, the sky was in pain, but it was nothing compared to his. It was a candle to an inferno, a puddle to an ocean. It all started with the ocean didn't it?

He shrugged his bag up higher and stood up. The rain was soaking his clothes; they stuck to him like dew to a lawn in the early morning. So many water analogies. He couldn't help but make them. They reminded him of the ocean, of him. Maybe it was the rain but something wet trickled down from his eye. Today he would let his emotions show, the pain leak through.

Haru's eyes rose to the sky. He stared up, unflinching as water cascaded around him. A canopy of leaves was above him. They were green, beautiful green. Once upon a time Haru had believed the blue of the ocean was the prettiest color known. That was until he'd met him. Then he knew that green was beauty. Green was warmth and love. A warmth and love he would never see again.

A burning sensation rose up in his throat and he closed his eyes. Droplets of water pierced his bare skin like freezing needles. He savored the feeling, embraced it. This was the closest he'd ever get to water again. Like fingertips it slid down his arms, his stomach, pooling in his shoes. The rain was tearing through him, washing pieces of him away until all he could see was Mako. And that was the only thing he'd see when he closed his eyes, for the rest of forever. Smiling Mako.

Somehow he found himself on the ground, sobbing violently. It was a complete breakdown, a loss of control. There was no tragic beauty to it, just pain. Agony searing through him, something words couldn't describe. No parents and now no Makoto. His very soul was drowning in this pain, something he'd never once thought of before. Ironic. There was no hand to pull him out this time.

* * *

***12 years BD***

* * *

"Geez Haru," Mako said, leaning back, "If you continue like that you'll never get a wife."

"I don't want a wife."

Mako stared at him but Haru pretended not to notice. Of course he didn't need a wife. As long as he had Mako he'd be fine. He nibbled on his lunch; mackerel. His mom cooked it for him every morning. His dad was lucky to have such a devoted wife. Wives seemed nice in theory but Haru didn't need one. They seemed to be a lot of work and he couldn't imagine liking anyone more than Mako. Of course as a pre-schooler he had no clue what that entailed.

When he looked back at Mako he saw he was smiling. His gentle smile was in place, his normally glittering green eyes positively glowing. Haru could see his own blue eyes reflected in his. It was an oddly warming sight. He stared back silently, a blank questioning look on his face.

"How about this," Mako said, leaning in closer, "We both never get wives. We can be best friends forever."

"But men need wives," Haru pointed out.

"But if I have Haru and you have me, do we really need wives? We can just take care of each other," At the end he blushed a bit, confusing Haru even more.

But Mako seemed to like the idea so Haru nodded. As long as Mako continued to smile, Haru could be happy.

"Okay."

* * *

***11 months AD***

* * *

"Table three, two beef platters with extra hot sauce, one hamburger platter, a bowl of cinnamon rolls."

Haru picked up the orders with practiced hands and maneuvered over to the table. A family sat there squabbling over politics. Haru smiled at them and placed down their food. The oldest daughter gave him a secret smile and tipped him. The older man bossily asked him how he was doing, the family being regulars. His smile stayed fixed until he was moving away.

Smiling had become easy after Mako died. It was something he had only done around Mako but once he was gone his smiles became broken. They were the rainbows on shattered glass, irreparably broken but too beautiful for anyone to care. He didn't smile when he was happy; in fact he smiled on whim, when he was bored, or sad. When there was nobody to smile for there was no reason to actually smile. He just pulled his lips up in a morbid mockery.

"Hey Haru-san, can I speak to you for a minute?" His manager asked as he returned to the kitchen.

"Yeah."

He followed her over to the corner. He supposed she was a pretty woman but he didn't really know. Pretty had ceased to make sense to him when Mako took his last strangled gasps of air. Those were painful thoughts though and it wasn't the sixth. Those emotions were locked tightly away until he could let them be free.

"Surprise!"

Haru glanced at her, he had forgotten she was talking to him. He seemed to do that a lot more. People's words just seemed to slur. If they weren't Mako's voice then why should he listen? What comfort could they provide? They were just gibberish.

"Eh . . ."

"I know an extra 3$ an hour isn't much but you've been doing phenomenally well! So perk up sweetie!" She bubbled reaching out to pinch his cheek.

He stepped back smoothly, "Thank you."

She sighed, "Always so evasive . . . well get back to work then."

Haru nodded and headed back out of the kitchen laden with yet another set of plates. Somehow even all of the delicious smells couldn't tempt him. Not even mackerel. It had been nearly a year but there was nothing bringing him feeling. He wasn't sad, he was drained. And in those brief moments he felt something the pain was enough to kill him. It was murder.

* * *

***3 weeks AD***

* * *

"Haru?"

"Three weeks, two hours, forty six minutes, and twenty seven seconds."

The smell of rank body odour filled the room. Haru's blue-black hair was greasy with oils that had built up over two weeks of not showering. His mouth was sour with lack of brushing. None of it bothered him, the only thing he could focus on was the pain coursing through him. It destroyed everything. He turned dead blue eyes on Nagisa's pink, who flinched at the sight.

"We're all hurting too," Nagisa began.

"'Run!'"

"What?"

Haru continued to stare at him, "Those were his last words before the bullet pierced his lung. Then another in his arm," He placed a finger on his own arm before putting it up to his head, "Bang."

Nagisa looked revolted and pained, Haru just stared at him. No thoughts trickled through his pain other than the gunshot. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day he heard the gunshots. They played their own melody to him. Bang. Bang. BANG.

"Would you at least come out of your room?" Nagisa begged, "We need you to get through this."

"Kill me."

His eyes widened, "Haru!"

"Kill me."

Anger replaced the shock, "How could you say that?! Do you think Mako wanted this? He told you to run because he wanted you to live! He wanted you to continue on! How could you just ask me to kill you? I'm your best friend! We're, best friends . . ." Tears were sliding down his face.

"Kill me."

"Mako-"

"KILL ME!" He screamed, "KILL ME AND LET THIS FUCKING END!"

Haru leapt out of bed, rage in his heart. He grabbed Nagisa by the throat and slammed him up against the wall. His blonde friend watched him with pity written all over his face, but Haru wasn't seeing him anymore. Instead he saw soft brown hair and green pools. He sobbed unrestrainedly into Mako's (Nagisa) arms. Salty tears poured down his cheeks and dribbled down his shirt. Even his nose had begun to drip. Crying truly was ugly.

"Why'd you fucking leave?" He yelled, "Why couldn't we have run together? YOU PROMISED FOREVER. WHO WILL I SWIM RELAYS WITH?"

His breathing had become harsher and black walls were beginning to close in on his vision. He felt a spinning in his head and his stomach was lurching. No words could describe . . . no words. He wanted it to end so badly. There was nothing without Makoto. Not a single word, not a million words, nothing could describe.

After that Nagisa, Rei, and Gou began visiting him regularly. They convinced him to do the little things again. He showered. He brushed his teeth. He ate more than one meal a day. It was barely living but somehow he was doing it. Like a puppet on invisible strings he marched forward, dead inside but still moving.

He locked it all up. Only on the sixth of every month would he let it out. The monthly anniversary of Makoto's death. He told himself he did it to not worry his friends, but in all honesty he was just doing it to survive. If he focused on the pain he'd go insane. Maybe he was already insane. It didn't matter. He was just living to die. He had it all planned out. Exactly one year from Makoto's death he would end it all. That was his only comfort.

* * *

***357 days AD***

* * *

The irony of drowning would be beautiful. To die surrounded by the water, its claws slicing his lungs apart. His corpse would rest at the bottom of the ocean. Fish would eat him and he could become one with the ocean. Nothing but the waves for the rest of eternity, a melody of gently lapping the shore. When the sky cried he would become violent in response. For the sea surely loved the sky as he loved Mako. Both forever out of reach. So while Mako was up in the clouds he would be at the bottom of the sea.

That morning he woke up and something prickled the air like electricity. Haru assumed it was a storm coming and got dressed slowly. He picked out a blue shirt and faded blue jeans. The only difference from how he used to dress was that he no longer wore his swimsuit under his clothes. It seemed like a small detail but it meant a lot.

Breakfast was mackerel as usual. As it sizzled away he stared at the slowly cooking meat. Nothing ran through his head. It was empty. Memories were too painful and thoughts were pointless. It was a week and one day away from his due date. He was eating purely out of habit; going through the motions. The smell was pungent and heavy. A small feeling of nausea curled up in his stomach.

He returned to his table with the fish and sat down. It tasted good but no longer brought him comfort. The only thing he could think of was Makoto saying 'Mackerel again?!' He sighed into the early morning and finished his breakfast in silence.

Outside his house he saw the sky was cloudless and blue. As he stared down the steps he thought he could hear Mako walking up them. Haru clenched his teeth, why did he have to haunt him? The only thing he could do was remember him. His smile was in the sky, his eyes in the foliage, his laughter running through his head on repeat. If he could shut it off he wouldn't. He clung to the memories like a baby clinging to its mother. It would be so much more painful to have nothing.

Work was a tiresome affair. More fake smiles, more people who pretended to know him. When work was over he was relieved. The walk home he noticed that once again the air felt charged. Today seemed to be different. That seemed impossible, every day was the same after the incident, but today was different. He could taste it in the air, feel it in the ground under his feet.

Once he got home the feeling of strangeness intensified. He had a feeling there was something out of place; different. Haru opened the front door to reveal nothing out of place. The feeling only became more charged. Carefully he checked each room until only his bedroom was left. With a feeling of mounting anxiety, something he hadn't felt in months, he opened the door. His eyes widened when he saw the figure sitting on his bed.

"Hey."

* * *

**A/N** Well yay for first chapters! Too angsty? I don't know. Drop me a review and wait for the next chapter soon to come! Follow and Fav if you enjoyed!


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